


Like A Time Bomb

by divenire



Series: Prompt Project [51]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And so do I, Because thus song started playing on my ipod and this fic popped into my head, M/M, Stiles has weird taste in music, i don't know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divenire/pseuds/divenire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles will never tell a living soul, but when he says he listens to everything, he means it. He likes pop, country, rock, folk, hip-hop, techno, dubstep, r&b, indie, punk, ska and just about everything else. He likes music from just about every decade and right this second he has about 4,000 songs on his phone and there are songs from this year, last year, the last decade, the nineties, the eighties, the seventies, and even a few things from the sixties. He likes everything.</p><p>Right now he’s got his music app on shuffle and he’s playing a game he’s invented, whatever song comes on, he has to find something it makes him think of. Then a song he forgot he even put on here starts playing. It’s “Wake Up” by Alicia Keys. (Yes, he likes Alicia Keys.) And he’s just walking down the hall to next class, his headphones in his ears, and he’s bobbing his head to the music, trying to think of what the song makes him think of.</p><p>Then it hits him and he can’t help but burst out laughing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Time Bomb

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this one to my tumblr a while ago, and somehow forgot to post it here!

Stiles will never tell a living soul, but when he says he listens to everything, he means it. He likes pop, country, rock, folk, hip-hop, techno, dubstep, r&b, indie, punk, ska and just about everything else. He likes music from just about every decade and right this second he has about 4,000 songs on his phone and there are songs from this year, last year, the last decade, the nineties, the eighties, the seventies, and even a few things from the sixties. He likes everything.

Right now he’s got his music app on shuffle and he’s playing a game he’s invented, whatever song comes on, he has to find something it makes him think of. Then a song he forgot he even put on here starts playing. It’s “Wake Up” by Alicia Keys. (Yes, he likes Alicia Keys.) And he’s just walking down the hall to next class, his headphones in his ears, and he’s bobbing his head to the music, trying to think of what the song makes him think of.

Then it hits him and he can’t help but burst out laughing. He laughs for just a few seconds too long and a few of the other kids in the hall turn and look at him. He just shrugs. He is, by this point, far too used to being the weird kid that people stare at to care.

The tone of it doesn’t fit, but the words? The words fit.

He takes his headphones out of his ears as he walks into class, but the song keeps playing in his head.

When he drives home, he’s humming the song and when he gets inside he puts it on again (still with his headphones) just so he’ll stop humming it.

It’s funny to the point of being borderline ridiculous. Especially the lines “Now all I battle is your ego and your pride. It’s ticking like a time bomb, ready to ignite.” Because, that, that right there is just so Derek. That is Derek all over.

And speak of the devil, there he is, suddenly just jerking Stiles’ headphones out of his ears and growling.

“Something I can help you with or did you just all of a sudden have an urge to show up here and physically harrass me?” says Stiles as he rubs at his still stinging ears.

Derek doesn’t reply to that, he just lifts the earphones up a bit, like they’re some sort of foreign objects that he’s never seen before and listens as the song starts playing again.

“Alicia Keys?” Derek says, or more like grunts, but that’s the only way Derek ever communicates; grunts, growls and snapping, even when he is using words.

Stiles jerks the earphones out of Derek’s grip and makes a face. “Honestly? I’m more surprised you know who that is.”

Derek gets that stern look on his face, the one Stiles knows is an indicator that Derek is paying attention to something. Stiles blushes and squeezes the earphones tightly in his hand, muffling the sound. Derek snorts and for him, that’s pretty damn close to an actual honest to god laugh.

“I can still hear it,” he mutters, but it’s not his usual I-hate-talking-to-all-people mutter. There’s a slightly lighter edge to it.

Derek is listening to the song, and that’s weird. That is just so weird. So Stiles scrambles to turn it off.

When he turns back around, Derek is in the middle of leaving, and he’s barely holding back his laughter. Actual, honest to god laughter.

So Stiles does the only thing he can think of. He unplugs his headphones and blasts the song as loud as he can.


End file.
